


whoosh!

by sapphicish



Category: WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Gen, ep 8 spoilers ahead, fake finale fic, no this is not "realistic"! no i do not "care"! leave me alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29741760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicish/pseuds/sapphicish
Summary: Wanda Maximoff was important.Once, Agatha Harkness had been important, but now she was important because she had Wanda Maximoff, and that was a little grating, sure. Who liked being importantbecauseof someone else?
Relationships: Agatha Harkness & Wanda Maximoff
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	whoosh!

**Author's Note:**

> agatha is a lesbian but this has no impact on the story and isnt even mentioned dont worry im not subjecting yall to my agatha/wanda fantasies just yet
> 
> agatha called wanda by anything but her name (lady, superstar, angel, buttercup, toots, etc) several times in 1x08 and im obsessed with that

Wanda shut down twice in the time that Agatha knew her. _Really_ shut down, none of that cheerful blank joy of being enclosed in a reality of her own making, none of the sitcom laughter and empty grins. That wasn't shutting down, that was just hiding it, hiding behind it, hiding away from it. Something. No, this was shutting down, the way her eyes got dull, the way she fell still, the way she wavered in place and said not a word.

She did it once when Agatha tore apart the magic that created her sons, leaving her to see the truth of the matter, that they like the rest of Westview were nothing more than magic, little particles floating away into the air, never again seen in their one-dimensional human-boy forms.

She did it again when the one Agatha mentally dubbed The Other Vision arrived. And when he arrived, well...Agatha really did hate to make such a mess of things, not for everyone else but for _herself,_ but she had no other choice, did she? There was Wanda, the Scarlet Witch herself, and there was The Other Vision about to destroy her, and there was a whole army of angry military boys aiming guns at them from where all three of them were up high in the air, in the most tension-heavy face-off Agatha had been involved in since...

Well, it had been a while, that was all.

She wasn't worried about S.W.O.R.D., they were _silly_ little things playing with something they didn't even understand, and that was obvious when The Other Vision almost laserbeamed Wanda's head off just when she looked like she was about to go to him.

So Agatha took Wanda's hands and she sketched a few runes in the air, nothing too complicated, and – 

Whoosh. Or maybe: snap.

They go away.

A nice little abandoned cabin Agatha kept for safety purposes or when she just wanted to get away from all the fuss of the world – when Thanos popped around, for example – was hidden way up high in the mountains of some place in Norway she couldn't pronounce that well, invisible to others unless she allowed them to see. She let Wanda see. Right there as they appeared in front of it, their feet sinking in the high snow. Wanda was shivering, all the way through even as Agatha guided them inside, through the old rickety wooden door, lighting a fire with a snap and swirl of her fingers in the hearth, wrapped a fur blanket around Wanda's shoulders and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It wasn't that Agatha had the patience for it, because she didn't, and she made that known. Once, twice, probably a hundred times in the following week, but no matter what she did Wanda stayed perfectly comatose in every way but literal. Conscious, but just _not there._ Agatha had to remind her to go to the bathroom, and sometimes—most of the time, even—that didn't work, so she had to _pull_ her along to the outhouse and wait outside freezing in the cold while Wanda did her business, and honestly, sometimes Wanda just took too damn long.

Agatha never left her alone, though. That was just asking for some kind of tragic accident, and what would she do if the Scarlet Witch died of suicide on her watch? Scream. She'd scream. She'd scream a lot.

So Agatha did that, and she also bathed her and dressed her and fed her, and whenever Wanda finally fell asleep in the cold, dark hours of the night, Agatha looked for signs of danger, out there, deep in the snow, in the forest, even in the sky.

There was nothing, day after day. Nothing. She'd been careful not to leave traces of her magic behind, but anything could happen here. Anything could happen now that she was guarding Wanda.

And it wasn't really that she wanted to guard her, it was just – what she had to do. She knew it. Wanda knew it, even if she didn't know it. They all knew it.

Wanda Maximoff was important.

Once, Agatha Harkness had been important, but now she was important because she had Wanda Maximoff, and that was a little grating, sure. Who liked being important _because_ of someone else?

It was day eight when Wanda looked up at her.

It was day nine when she stood on her own.

Day ten when she got herself something to drink of her own volition.

Day eleven when she murmured in a voice raspy from disuse, “Agnes?”

“Agatha, dear,” she corrected her immediately. “You remember. Use that brain of yours.”

Wanda didn't speak again, but then, day twelve, she said – “Agatha, where are we?”

“Somewhere in Norway,” Agatha said flippantly, waving a hand. “Don't worry about it.”

Wanda's eyes flickered red.

Agatha didn't like that, so she put her to sleep and waited for Wanda to wake up again. While she did that, she reinforced the runes around the place, and added a few extra just as a cherry on top. She hid them in the dirt and the stone under the snow outside, and carved them above the mantle, which was the last symbol she was perfecting when Wanda stirred, mumbling something.

“What was that? _Thank you for saving me from the fake military-controlled version of my boyfriend?_ You're welcome. Oh? _Thank you for helping me come to terms with the fact that I'm a weapon destined to be hunted by everyone in this world and the next for my absolute power?_ No need to go that far, Wanda, I'm just doing what I have to, but I'm so glad you're appreciative of it.”

“Be quiet,” Wanda slurred, really more of a weak groan than anything, and there it was, the accent coming back again in a flash. Agatha thought it was hilariously weird, personally, but she did like a good Eastern European accent in the—she checked the time—afternoon.

“Fine, fine. I get it. You're an ungrateful girl. That's fine. I'm still helping you anyway, aren't I?”

“Why?”

Agatha, almost finished with the rune, glanced over a shoulder. “Because they'd capture you or kill you or both, one after the other, and I don't want that, now, do I?”

“You don't?” Wanda's brows furrowed.

“Of course not! What would ever give you that idea?”

Wanda stared blankly at her.

Agatha thought about it for a moment. The past few weeks in Westview. Her frankly astounding expert disguise as Agnes the Neighbor, who absolutely-definitely had a husband named Ralph who just never showed up onscreen for some convenient reason. The climax, where she held Wanda captive in her underground witch dungeon-basement and made her relive the worst moments of her life...

“Oh,” Agatha said. “Huh. _All right,_ doll, I can understand the confusion. But don't worry about it. You aren't dying on my watch.”

“Then what _am_ I doing here?”

Agatha tied off the last string of magic on the rune and whipped around, floated down to the floor and grinned at Wanda who, bless her heart, Agatha had never seen look more bewildered. Depressed? Yes. Angry? Yes. Happy? Yes. But not this bewildered, not ever.

“I'm going to teach you about being a witch, and you're going to teach me about being the Scarlet Witch.”

Agatha personally thought it was all very simple, but judging by the look Wanda gave her, that was not a shared opinion.

“I want out of here,” Wanda said, “and I want out now.”

“That isn't possible,” Agatha said dismissively.

Wanda's eyes flashed red, and a vase shattered to pieces in the kitchen behind her.

Agatha knew that shouldn't have been possible, not with all the warding. So Wanda must have been very upset. Which she supposed was understandable from a certain perspective; to think, Wanda had gone from grieving to happy in a fake reality to captive in a basement to captive in a cabin, grieving, again. Not to mention all the happy-then-grieving-then-happy-again _before_ all of that, from what Agatha had seen of her past.

“Don't start doing that or I'll put you to sleep again,” Agatha said sternly, wagging a finger in Wanda's direction.

“Let me out.”

“You can leave any time you like,” Agatha lied, “but what are you going to do when you're out? What, make another new reality for yourself? Chase down that Vision they made and marry him? Settle down alone somewhere and hope you aren't found by S.W.O.R.D., or me, or anyone else that might be looking for you? And at this point, trust me, they probably are. All your old superhero friends. All of that.”

“They were never my friends.”

That may or may not have been a lie for either one of their benefits, but it made Agatha smile anyway. “My point exactly. You have no friends. You only have me. And I can be your friend, cupcake. I really can. I can teach you things, and I won't go diving into your past again. I've learned all I needed to.”

Wanda said nothing, so Agatha dusted her hands off and headed for the kitchen just as soon as she was 90% positive that Wanda wouldn't try to kill her with her back turned. “You think about it, hon. For now, how's waffles for lunch sound?”

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know whats going on but neither do they <3


End file.
